Mr. Forsythe was now, more decidedly, going. But he could not treat the Hon. Kiffyn Verney quite like an ordinary client, for he was before him occasionally in Committees of the House of Commons, and was likely soon to be so in others of the Lords, and therefore, chafing and smiling, he hesitated under the light pressure of the old gentleman's stiff fingers. "And you know the, I may say, _absurd_ state of the law, about it--there was, you know, my unfortunate brother, Arthur--you are aware--_civiliter mortuus_, stopping the way, you know, for nearly twenty years, about it, ever since my poor father, Lord Verney, you know, expired, about it, and I've been, as you know, in the most painful position--_absurd_, you know." "_Quite_ so; I'm _afraid_--" Forsythe was again edging toward the door. "And I always contended that where the heir was civilly dead, about it, the law should make proper provision--don't you see?" "Quite so, only _fair_--a very wise and politic statute--and I wish very much, with your experience, you'd turn your attention to draw one. I'm obliged to be off now, to meet the New Discount directors; consultation at my chambers." And so, smiling, Forsythe, Q.C., did vanish, at last. All this over, Mr. Cleve Verney proposed to himself a little excursion, of a day or two, to Paris, to which his uncle saw no objection. Not very far from the ancient town of Caen, where the comparative quietude of Normandy, throughout the throes of the great revolution, has spared so many relics of the bygone France, is an old château, still habitable--still, after a fashion, comfortable--and which you may have at a very moderate rent indeed. Here is an old wood, cut in a quincunx; old ponds stocked with carp; great old stables gone to decay; and the château itself, is indescribably picturesque and sad. It is the Château de Cresseron--withdrawn in historic seclusion, amid the glories and regrets of memory, quite out of the tide of modern traffic. Here, by the side of one of the ponds, one evening, was an old lady, throwing in little bits of bread to the carp that floated and flitted, like golden shadows, this way and that, as the crumbs sank in the water, when she heard a well-known voice near her which made her start. "Good heavens! Mr. Verney! _You_ here?" she exclaimed, with such utter wonderment, her little bit of bread raised in her fingers, that Cleve Verney, though in no merry mood, could not help smiling. "Yes--here indeed--and after all, is it quite so wonderful?" said he. "Well, of course you know, Mr. Verney, I'm very glad to see you. Of course, you know _that_; but I'm very far from being certain that you have done a wise or a prudent thing in coming here, and I don't know that, under the circumstances, I _ought_ to be glad to see you; in fact, I'm afraid it is _very rash_," said Miss Sheckleton, growing more decided as she proceeded.